


What goes around, comes around

by Cibeeeee



Series: Ending of Hiraeth [8]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:37:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibeeeee/pseuds/Cibeeeee
Summary: Comforts between friends with tea, cakes, flowers, and just each other.





	What goes around, comes around

**Author's Note:**

> It's a follow up to the series's previous work, but you don't have to read it, just know that Satya was kidnapped and rescued.

Satya didn’t need to open her eyes to know that someone had brought in flowers, and that it was dawn in Gibraltar.

She knew because when Doctor Ziegler left last night, she had opened the window for Satya. The salty sea breeze at dawn always blew in more gently than during the night. It was mixed with faint grass smell and heavier floral scent. Now the only question was who.

Her left arm ached. And she also knew it was not there. It was being repaired after the kidnapping, and that left her feeling helpless for the first time she had come back.

Satya was afraid to open her eyes, even if the breeze assured her where she was.

“Athena,” she called weakly, her voice hoarse.

“Yes, Agent Symmetra?”

Satya exhaled through her nose, she just wanted to make sure she was safe.

“Nothing, my apologies, Athena.”

Athena did not point out the weariness in her voice, but did offer her concern, “Do you need me to call for someone, Agent?”

“No, that won’t be – ”

“Although it seem there is someone heading to the medbay at this moment, do you feel like entertaining visitors now, Agent?”

Despite her previous anxiousness, Satya snapped opened her eyes and scrambled to sit up, her body lurching sideways when she forgotten that at the moment she only had one arm.

She wiped her face with the cloth on her bedside table (she did not remember putting it there, nor did Angela, had it come with the flowers?) and smoothed her hair down at the best that she could. Satya did not know if she looked up to par.

There was a polite knock, and Zneyatta’s voice came from outside.

“Miss Vashwani,” he called. “Would it be okay if I come in?”

“Yes, please.”

Zenyatta’s kind face peeked around the corner, and he waved slightly. He was holding a tray with a teapot, two teacups, and a ginger-brown sugar cake.

“I thought you might want something to eat,” he sat the tray down, opened up a small folded table for Satya. She muttered her thanks, and poured two cups of tea while Zenyatta cut the cake.

“This isn’t the best breakfast, but it warms you up, and today is a cold day,” he put the cake in front of Satya. The inside of the cake was gooey with sugar, the outside a bit burnt. Satya wondered who backed it.

Zenyatta didn’t drink, but he always had a cup for himself anyways. Perhaps it’s habit, he said, when Satya asked a long time ago. Most people remembered that he didn’t need a drink only after they had poured a cup for him. Now it felt natural to have a cup for himself too.

“This is black tea from Sun Moon Lake,” Zenyatta said, and Satya took a whiff of the steam. It smelt stronger than their usual black tea, even a little fragranced. “I’ve heard good things about it.”

Satya was well used to dining with only one arm. This was not the first time her arm had been taken from her, but it might just be the most stressful. Before it was always for checkups or upgrades, this time it was for repair.

Now fully awake, she felt her body tremble again.

“Do you wish me to close the window, Satya?” Zenyatta tilted his head in concern.

“Do you wish me to contact Doctor Ziegler, Agent Symmetra? Your heart rate is accelerating.” Athena droned from above them.

Satya shook her head. “No, it will not be necessary…”

A whirling sound drifted pass her, Satya looked up to see one of Zenyatta’s orbs floating beside her. Emitting a wan golden gleam in the dim room, brighter than the sky outside.  

No one spoke for some time. Zenyatta could be meditating. Satya was lost to the taste of spicy-sweet cake and bitter tea. Athena’s logo flashed occasionally.

When she poured herself a second cup of tea, Satya spoke up.

“I’m afraid the kidnapping has taken a toll on me.” Satya admitted quietly.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Zenyatta said with equal stillness. “The first time is always the worst, and believe me, Satya, we will do everything we can to make sure that is the only time you will ever be taken away from us.”

Satya was almost afraid to ask, but the question was startled out of her. “Have you?”

Zenyatta’s face somehow felt plaintive. Now she wished she had closed the window. The shadow of the flapping curtains casted itself onto the monk’s form. Zenyatta’s lights looked far dimmer than it actually was.

“Years ago, I was held hostage with my brother in King’s Row,” Zenyatta said. Satya grimaced inwardly at her own insensitive intruding. Zenyatta patted her arm. “It is alright. I just hope you know that you can talk to me if you feel uneasy. I will understand, and not think less of you.”

Satya peered up, feeling like a child even though he was eight years younger than her. “I don’t like feeling helpless.”

“I wonder if anyone like it.” Zenyatta easily responded.

“This made me realized how different I am here,” she took a sip of tea, it was over steeped. One of the imperfection that she enjoyed. “Anyone else would have known how not to get taken in the first place. I am not a fighter.”

“That you are not,” Zenyatta agreed. “But it doesn’t mean you couldn’t be.”

Satya put down her teacup.

“I understand the fear that you will suffer from now on. And though I can offer aphorisms that may seem to help, but I think, if I may suggest, the best way is to learn how to protect yourself. You won’t always have your weapon on you nor a companion nearby. Perhaps trainings are the way for you to feel safe.”

She had never had proper training before. Satya exercised regularly to keep healthy, but never fighting drills. Now she thought about it, the whole thing could might have been avoided if she knew how to defend herself.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I think that would make me feel better.”

“And this whole base is filled with people that are expert in all kinds of areas, they all will be willing to help you.”

Satya knew they would, and that made her heart swell.

Zenyatta moved to leave, saying it was time for her to get some rest before Doctor Ziegler’s check-up. Before he disappeared around the corner, Satya called out.

“Were you the one that brought me flowers?” she asked.

Zenyatta’s faceplate titled to the direction of the vase of flowers by her bedside.

“Peonies,” he said knowingly. “It could have many meanings depends on the culture, or the sender might just think they look pretty with you.”

Satya blushed and ran her fingers through her hair. Zenyatta laughed softly and left.

 

．．．．．

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until you have your arm back?” Hanzo asked.

Satya nodded, raising her right arm in a fighting stance. “What if my prosthetic is not with me, or malfunctioning?”

“Fine, but it will be harder. With only one arm, you’ll have to develop a fast enough reflex for you to turn away from attacks and strike back with your arm. When you get your left arm back, we will work on defending yourself with one and attacking with the other.”

Hanzo raised his hands, expression serious. “Ready?”

She nodded.

 

．．．．．

 

“I am assuming the training went well.” Zenyatta’s remarked, amusement heavy in his tone as Satya sat down with a grunt next to him in the garden.

“Hanzo is a very strict teacher,” she sighed. Her hips ached from falling down so many times in two hours. “But very good. I am happy I took your advice.”  

“I am glad to help.”

The garden was facing the sea. The salty breeze took Satya back to the memory of a few days ago in the medical ward. A question that had been nagging at her ever since Zenyatta left.

“Why were you up at dawn that day, Zenyatta?” she asked. “It was too early, even for you.”

“I had suspected you may have trouble resting, and I did not think it was wise to leave you alone so shortly after you have returned.”

“That is very kind of you,” she pulled her legs up and wrapped her right arm around them. “You are always helpful to people.”

“It is something I greatly enjoy doing,” Zenyatta replied cheerfully.

“What about you, Zenyatta?” Satya asked. “You offered me assistance. You help Hanzo meditate every day. You help Doctor Ziegler when she cries after a failed test. What about you? Who helps you?”

“You help me, Satya,” he said, and Satya drew back in shock. “And Hanzo, and Angela, and Reinhardt, Hana –“he paused. “– And Genji. And if I list out each and every one that had or is helping me, I’m afraid we will be here all day.”

“We – I didn’t do anything.”

Zenyatta turned fully to her.

“Would you allow me to tell you something, Satya?”

Satya’s body tensed slightly. “Of course.”

Zenyatta hummed, His orbs whirled around him pleasantly.

“After Mondatta died, I was devastated. At the time of the event, I was traveling alone. I did not have anyone with me, and I did not know who to go to, the only person I find consolation in had just passed away.”

“It was a hard time for me,” Zenyatta chuckled, and Satya wondered if he was making an understatement of his grief. “I was filled with anger.”

“It felt like a blow of truth, at the time. Like the world was telling me that our work will never be able to keep up with the speed of the rift humans and omnics had between. I did not know what to do, for the first time since I found my calling, I wanted to give up.”

“This went on for months. I avoided civilization. Most of the time I spent it around streams, waterfalls, cliff sides… so the noise of nature would drown out the uncertainty and doubt in my mind.”

Satya felt a squeeze on her hand, and looked down to realize that somewhere between Zenyatta’s words, she had reached out and gripped his fingers. Zenyatta’s other hand covered their joined hands.

“But then one day, I ventured into a city, and on the news I saw a soldier who spent his whole life fighting against machines protecting an onmic. And on that day, I felt myself feeling the emotion of wanting to cry for the first time. This soldier reminded me of having hope in the world.”

Satya’s breath caught in her throat. She had seen the news.

“Reinhardt?” she whispered, and Zenyatta nodded.

“Reinhardt restored my hope, and later, I passed it onto Genji, and he to Hanzo, and Hanzo to you. This cycle is why I am still going, it is my belief. Satya, do you understand what I am trying to say?” 

“Some people sort their trouble out through meditation. Or relaxing, or working. Some spend times with friends, lovers. Some,” he said, tapping Satya’s hand. “Dances. And I provide all of you guidance, some pointers, advises. And through guiding my friends – I find consolation in them. And I treasure it greatly.”

Zenyatta plucked up one of the wild flowers growing around them. His features struck Satya in a way she could only describe as warm. When he spoke again, his words were laced with mirth.

“I think one of our friend has found us.”

Satya turned around and saw Bastion trotted towards them. They both stood up to greet him.

Bastion’s way of speaking was still something Satya was working on grasping, but she could tell he was uneasy. Beside her, Zenyatta laughed merrily.

“There is no need to be bashful, my friend.” He said reassuringly.

_ Bee-wo-wee _ , came Bastion’s reply, and he reached up to the nest on his shoulder, where Ganymede stood, holding a flower in his beak. The little bird plucked the flower into Bastion’s waiting hand – a peony.

Bastion stooped a little so he was eye level with Satya, and offered her the flower gentlemanly. Satya could not help but put her hand over her heart, then she remembered she only had one hand to accept the flower at the moment.

She took the flower from Bastion gently. Bastion cheerfully beeped at her, and Ganymede cheerfully chirped as well.

“Thank you,” Satya said, looking back and forth from Zenyatta and Bastion, the people that thought of her when she was vulnerable. She brought the pink flower to her face and hid her red-rimmed eyes behind it. “Thank you.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on [Tumblr](http://cibeeeeee.tumblr.com/) and/or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spiciestcibee?lang=zh-tw)


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